A Strand of Emeralds
by Lady Mondegreen
Summary: Ardelia needs to know what happened...
1. Twinkle, twinkle, little Star...

Disclaimer: Thomas Harris owns all characters except Karen, Antonia, and John. If he sues, all he'll get is my ancient computer and my dog. To readers: I know the plot is a little shaky, but I know nothing about the FBI or international parties.   
  
  
  
Ardelia squinted in the bright sunlight of the airport outside of Madrid. Ardelia hated long flights, and she was still a little wobbly from being in coach for sixteen hours. She still wasn't totally sure why she'd let her new roommate Karen talk her into going. _What, girl, you think you'll just crash into Clarice on the streets and she'll be so relieved that she's out of Lecter's clutches? Lecter's embrace is more like it._ The ring told her more than any damn police report on Krendler's body could. But Ardelia wanted to know... what happened, why. Who was fairly obvious, even if the bureau refused to believe that someone being the ball in inter-office soccer, pushed when they weren't getting anything for it, would just up and leave- well, with a serial killer besides.  
You are absolutley gonna _love_ the clubs, Dea. Karen chirped while hailing a taxi. Ardelia hated that nickname, the girl was only her roomate because Clinton was making tax laws when her old roomie skipped town. We do have to go to this stupid dressy thing, some-our-countries-worked-together memorial thing. At least the bosses are paying. Never know, some cute international spies might show up! Ardelia just rested her head against the glass window of the taxi and closed her eyes.  
  
The mansion was lavishly decorated for all the American and Spanish federal social climbers attending. Ardelia hung in the background uncomfortably in her long green satin dress. She liked the dress, and her Spanish was fine, but this particluar party made her want to scream. Everywhere she looked Ardelia swore she saw Krendlers and Krendlerettes sniping at each other in varying languages. She stalked outside into the light rain and hailed a taxi. One pulled up and she got. Ardelia looked out the window, idly wondering where Karen had gone with the guy she'd been chatting up. Karen wasn't a fed per se, she was Under-Assisstant-to-Some-Rich-Political-Guy-or-Lady. Ardelia glanced down at the cachobon emerald on her left hand, twinkling under the passing streetlights. Something else sparkled, just under the backseat, hidden in the darkness. She picked it up, and held it under the flickering outside lights without the cabbie seeing: a strand of emeralds.  
  
  
Back in her room at the hotel, Ardelia looked at the strand more closely. Emeralds and diamonds, a neckalce. She could tell it was expensive, and the fiery gems had the feeling that someone picked it out for someone they knew perfectly and were mystified by a the same time. Laying it on the table, Ardelia caught sight of her ring again. She inhaled sharply. _No, no, it couldn't be. _But even though it wasn't complete, Ardelia felt it was obvious: her ring, this necklace, were one and the same.  
  
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Okay, I need reviews before I'll write the next part, my life is actually busy. (mutters incoherently about evil biology extra courses and psychotic American History professors.)


	2. Old pictures

Author's Note: I've been having some formatting problems, so I think I fixed it. This is a really long part, and my term paper is due really soon, so I'm not continuing unless I get lots of reivews, good or bad.  
  
  
  
  
Ardelia walked into the small jewler's shop in Madrid with the ring and the necklace wrapped seperately in a small bag. Can I help you? the elderly woman behind the counter asked. Yes. Can you tell me if this ring is from this strand? she asked, handing over the small bag. After examining them for several minutes, the jewler said I believe the gem from this ring came from this necklace. It's the same cut, and the necklace has had a segment removed. Only one is odd, if someone was making it smaller, they usually take four or six. The woman clucked her tongue. If you're selling these, reconsider dear. Truly lovely jewlery.   
  
  
She walked out feeling a little lightheaded. _This ring is from Clarice. This necklace is Clarice's. Given to her by Hannibal Lecter._ _Did she send me the ring as a warning or for reassurance?_ Should she keep looking? Yes. Where to start? Taxis didn't keep records. But the driver might remember. Wait. Clarice would have changed her appearance. Ardelia seriously doubted she'd get cosmetic surgery. Lecter wouldn't want his little Starling marred. The gunpowder. Clarice'd never gotten that removed. So why would she now? Ardelia went back to her hotel and found a 97ish photo of Clarice at her thirtieth birthday. You could see the weight of her career already pulling down behind her eyes. But it was the side of her face with the powder.   
  
  
Do you remeber picking up this woman? Ardelia wearly asked the driver. It had taken her several hundred American dollars and five hours to track down the cabbie from that night. He squinted at the photo. Yeah, I remember her. Mapp's pulse quickened. Was she with an older man? Yeah, I think he was older. He was helping her in the car, leaning over her, pressing her neck. It was weird, they weren't tourists or anything. Dressed real nicely, and came out of the opera theatre. Did they give you an address? No, guy gave me directions as I drove. Told me to hurry. Ardelia asked. Pretty obvious. The lady was really pregnant.  
  
Ardelia walked back to the hotel. She hoped the air would clear her head. This seemed to be her day for confusing thoughts. Jesus! The necklace from Lecter was bad enough, but if the cabbie was right, Clarice was having a baby. They were going the be f*cking _parents._ Little Lecters. She absurdly pictured Clarice and _him_ pushing a baby stroller down the streets. If Lecter had kept Clarice alive this long, he must have some kind of protectiveness for her. But a child? Ardelia shook her head in disbelief. Clarice was thirty-six, Lecter must be sixty-two or sixty-three. She nearly giggled at the thought their kid wouldn't have trouble sneaking out, cause his parents would be able to hear him by then. Sobering quickly, she decided it was now even more important to find Clarice. What _would _ Lecter do with her and a baby?  
  
  
Finding out where they were was relativley easy, given Lecter's finesse in illuding any type of suspicion. But you just had to know what to look for. Canceled party RSVPs, recent extravagant purchases from stores specializing in antique furniture, the like. It sounded to Ardelia like Clarice had gone into early labor at some theatre, and Lecter wanting to get home soon as possible, called a cab. There wouldn't be time to go for their car. It had to be early, no way Lecter hadn't scheduled the birth down to the hour. Clarice would not be going out in her late eighth month. Ardelia found a family called the di Rinadlios with season tickets to just about everything. The address was in the smart-but-socialite section of a small city called Leganes. Fairly far from Madrid, but no apartment. So they stayed the night in a hotel. Ardelia suspected Lecter would want to deliver the baby himself, but if the child was born that night, hotel staff would notice an call an ambulance. So Clarice was probably still pregnant.   
  
  
She'd driven out to Clarice and Lecter's supposed address two nights later. She'd been there three times, different cars each time. Thank God this trip didn't require her to go to any more parites. It was two weeks long, and she didn't want to know how Karen was occupied. Ardelia sat in her rental car, looking up at the magnificent house set back. It had a four stories, and was at least three hundred years old. _Typical Lecter_. Still, she had to give him credit. It really was a lovely mansion, with trees around it and situated on a hill, facing over the valley. Probably gorgeous porch on the back. Six car garage. This guy had more money the FBI knew about. Way more money. She sighed. Ardelia had been debating how to apprehend Lecter without hurting Clarice and her baby, and though she hated to admit it, _whether_ she should. Lecter hadn't killed anyone since Krendler that they knew about, and there wasn't any reason for him to. But he was a killer, he didn't need real reasons. Clarice would have gotten away or been killed if she was there against her wil. But was she in her right mind? Had she ever been? Ardelia turned the keys in the ignition, retiring these thoughts until she had a plan. The car wouldn't start. She tried again. Something rapped on her window. Ardeluia looked up, frusturated. The terrified. For staring back at her smiling evilly, was the face of Hannibal Lecter.


	3. Shock

  
Ardelia sat speechless for a moment, then remembered to breathe.   
  
Lecter! How the- The doctor moved swiftly, yanking open the car door and grabbing her arm in one smooth motion.   
  
Special Agent Mapp. he said calmly.   
  
Clarice will be thrilled to see you. She did miss her friend in the first few months. Of course, now she has me. His eyes seemed to glitter as he tightened his hold on her.  
  
A car, outside my home, same time, same spot. Naturally I was suspiscious. Quite rightly too, you've been snooping. I know you aren't armed, but I am. I will get in, and you will drive into the gates, go in, be nice and civil, and see Clarice again. We'll take it from that.   
  
You can't... people will notice if I go missing. He stepped in on the passenger side. They didn't seem to miss Clarice too much. And your body would be found with a with apparent head trauma, inside your car, in a lake off a peak, a rental car not checked often enough. Nice little story for the records, car accident, close the file and stamp it, then Special Agent how-did-you-spell-her-name-again is in a grave outside Washington. Ardelia just swallowed and drove inside the gates.  
  
Thank you. Walking around, Lecter opened the door and grasped her arm. He escorted her inside, the large door closing with a deathly thud. Lecter walked her down to a rather large library.   
  
He said, gesturing towards an armchair beside a fireplace. Ardelia sat down, looking for a way to get out or call someone. To her dismay, the only windows faced a steep drop, the only visible door the one she had come in.   
  
Don't bother. The phones aren't in here, and the door is the only one. The windows are twenty feet up, you won't get far with a broken leg. Lecter said. The door opened. A tall woman, with light red hair stood, clutching a robe around herself.   
  
Hannibal, whose car is outside- The woman bit off her sentence a stared at Ardelia for a moment.  
  
Hello, Ardelia.  
  
Hello, Clarice.  
The woman moved and sat down in a chair across from her. Close up, Mapp could see the woman was clearly pregnant, perhaps seven months. She looked amazed. Lecter walked up behind Clarice and put a hand on her shoulder. Ardelia would have flinched, but Clarice seemed to draw strength from him.   
Why, Ardelia? I told you I was happy.  
  
Mapp got angry. Happy! With a murderer, Starling! He's killed, why won't he kill you too?!  
  
Clarice smiled faintly. Because I am not Starling anymore. We're married.  
Good god, no!  
Ardelia was on the verge of screaming. You ran off after he _killed_ Krendler, who was not one of the finest people around, but like that! And not just Krendler, how many more?  
Clarice looked upset.   
Please don't, Ardelia, I want to be able to let you go away unharmed.  
Not unless he goes too, in a straight jacket! Mapp did scream.  
  
Clarice's eyes flashed. You'd want them to take my husband and children, just like my career? I had nothing left, Ardelia, nothing! You couldn't have helped!   
  
Mapp's breathing was eerily normal. You said children? Twins, you're having?  
  
  
  
The word rang like a shot.   
she gestured to Clarice's distended abdomen isn't your first. As in the two of you.   
  
Would you like to meet them?  
  
Lecter rubbed his thumb in circles on her shoulder. My dear, is that really a good idea? Agent Mapp would know what they look like. Clarice looked up at him, arms circling her belly. They will be safe.  
  
_There she goes with the plurals again.  
_  
Clarice gave an odd smile, close to crying but not wanting to.   
She took Mapp's hand and led her out the room and up a back flight of stairs, down a hall framed by high windows on either side. Ardelia had seen this from the car, this second-story annex. They stopped at a door. Clarice swung open the door carefully, making sure the hinges didn't squeak. At first Ardelia couldn't see anything, but her eyes adjusted to the dim light. In a corner stood a large elaborate dollhouse, and a bay windowseat facing the valley, a little tea set, a bookcase, wardrobe, and directly in front of her a bed. She could just make out a small figure lying in it, sound asleep. _A Starling hatchling._   
  
Ardelia, meet Antonia. She's going to be four in a week.  
Mapp couldn't understand how calm Clarice's voice could be so calm, as if they were dicussing this in a ncie little suburban house in Alexandria, with this girl's name being Antonia Brigham, or at least Noble. But no, God just had to screw with fate, twisting little knobs and pushing buttons until it came out a mansion in Langes, Spain, with little Antonia Lecter.  
Ho-ly shit. Ardelia didn't say anything.  
  
Clarice led her out into the hall and to a door across from Antonia's room. It was difficult to make out the objects in this room most of them were scattered across the floor. Except this room had a spacious crib instead of a bed in it.   
  
John's very messy for two. It's really nice in here after the maids get to it but before he does, he has Legos, and all sorts of stuff. I named him after Brigham.  
  
Ardelia whirled around to face her old roommate.   
How could you! Name a child of Lecter's after Brigham! Deface a dead man with an evil's baby! she shreiked. At this point the figure in the crib stirred and began to cry, so Clarice walked over and picked up her child, rocking him. Lecter came into the room then, flicking on the lamp closest to the door. Mapp could see Clarice's face was streaked with tears.   
_The boy does look like her.  
  
Lecter's eyes glittered again, with anger and something.... not pity. Not regret. Almost sadness. But not for her. For Clarice. __He really loves her. If he hugs her, I'm gonna get violent._, Mapp thought.   
  
Lecter didn't go to her, but Clarice handed him the child. John. Lecter held his son, and walked him out into the hall.  
  
How could I, Ardelia? Do you really want to know? To mark an occaision. The official realization that I didn't matter, that my best friend didn't matter, that my work didn't matter, all that mattered that I was another cheap plastic pawn in the game! Because John Brigham was my best friend who died for the government of his country cause some chauvanist bastard didn't wann take an order from a woman! Clarice screamed the last sentence, then gasped and fell to the floor. Ardelia ran to her and knelt down.  
  
Clarice, are you alright!? She asked. Then Ardelia noticed the water on the floor. Lecter came into the room and shoved the little boy into Mapp's arms. Hold him. The boy, John, clung to Ardelia looking fearfully at his mother. Lecter picked up Clarice, who was conscious and breathing shallowly. He stood up mumuring something reassuring to her and began to walk out of the room. The girl, Antonia, had come out of her room. She watched her mother, looking knowingly at Ardelia. _She looks like him. She acts like him._ But she had Clarice's gray-blue eyes.  
  
Oh, Agent Mapp, Lecter had stopped and turned to look at her. If Clarice or any of our children as a result of this _investigation_,- well, you will have the rest of tonight to dwell on that.  
  
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Hope you like it! I think two more installments and it will be done.   
And the unmentioned-best-friend-who-still-hasn't-read-this-story, read the d@mn story already!


	4. Unnatural Calm

chapterfour

  
Ardelia sat dazedly on a sofa outside Lecter's- the Lecter's- bedroom. Her head in her hands, she hoped feverently Clarice would be alright. She didn't want to think about the baby. Or the two previous babies sitting on her left. Antonia held her brother's head on her lap, watching the little boy sleep. She hadn't spoken a word except to calm John. Mapp wondered if Lecter's coolness was some twisted form of autism he'd passed to this child.   
How do you know my mother?  
  
The crisp, yet still childishly high voice startled Ardelia out of her zone. The clear gray-blue eyes were fixed on her face.   
  
I worked with her, before she married Lect- your father. I was her roommate before she met him. Something told her not to mention the FBI, or that her parent's first meeting was in a criminal institution, separated by three inches of Plexiglass.  
  
She worked before she married Father?  
Ardelia looked at the girl's face. It was round like Clarice's, with her nose, but light olive like Lecter's with what must have been his origional hair color. She was a near perfect mix of them, but the steely eyes looked oddly out of place. _Little Lecter. Must throw a hell of a tea party._  
  
  
  
Is she going to die?  
  
That shook Ardelia, not a four year old child asking if her mother was dying, but without the signature warble of the terrified. No, calmly and quietly.  
  
I don't think so. Your father is a doctor, he'll take the best care of her he can.  
  
Will the baby?  
  
I hope not.  
  
The baby almost came a while ago. But Mother and Father stopped it. Because it was too early. Father said we weren't to upset Mother, or the baby could be sick or hurt if it came too early, and Mother might not be able to control it if she was very upset. Mother got upset when you were upset about John's name.  
  
Ardelia broke the eye contact, afraid to respond. Antonia just titled her head until she could see Ardelia's eyes again.  
  
You said his name was disgracing a man with an evil's baby. Why did you say that?  
  
Because I knew the man John was named after. I ha- I'm not fond of your father.  
  
What happened to him? The man John was named after.  
  
Ardelia took a deep breath. _The turning point. Realized nothing mattered .  
  
_He was killed in a drug bust, because someone didn't want to admit your mother knew better than him.  
  
It sounded good. She wasn't going to traumatize a kid by describing Evelda Drumgo's baby and Clarice. The kid's parents would never tell them about their father's little stay in an insane asylum for nine counts of first-degree murder, or the reason it was a nuthouse instead of a jailhouse. All they probably knew was he'd met their mother in the US, and they'd run off and gotten married. Poor damn kids, once the feds got Lecter, they'd be hard evidence to send their mother to prison and grow up in a foster home. Ardelia shivered at the mental image of Clarice in a prison uniform.  
  
But why don't you like Father?  
  
He... scared me and your mother's old friends. They sort of... eloped. Ran off and got married without telling anyone.  
  
I know what _that_ means.  
The way Antonia emphasized _that _ made Ardelia smiled. She sounded like a little kid.  
One shrill scream echoed out from behind the solid mahogany doors, punctuating something.   
  
I know what _that_ means, too.  
  
The doors creaked open, and Lecter emerged from the room. He'd never looked like this before. Well, except for the bloodstained gloves he was stripping off his hands. His jacket was off, no tie, and he looked -_ happy_. Peacefully happy. John had woken as soon as the door opened, and Antonia clutched him. Lecter walked over to the sofa, and stood in front of it.   
  
Antonia, John, you have a new baby sister. Your mother is exhausted and slightly delirious, but no lasting effects.  
  
He turned to Ardelia.   
I don't know if it's the morphine or she harbors some inane desire to count you as a friend, but Clarice would like to see you. If you harm her or our daughter in any way, I will know.  
She got up, and Lecter sat down on the sofa.   
  
The room was pleasantly lit. In a trash can, a bloodstained surgical coat rested. A warming bed and just about everything necessary for delivering a baby was in the room. Obviously the birth had happened on the strecher, they wouldn't want to mess up the ornate bed. Lecter researched well. Clarice was resting in the bed, propped up on pillows. Her face was tired and drawn, hair matted with sweat, and (though Lecter had cleaned her up fairly well) she didn't smell too good. But she was radiant. Just so unabashedly happy. In her arms, Clarice held a white bundle.  
  
Isn't she beautiful? Clarice cooed at her newborn daughter.  
  
She's adorable. _Why don't you just have your Lecter kill me already?  
  
_Want to hold her? It was more of a warning than a question, Clarice passed the baby to Ardelia. Mapp cradled the bundle in her arms like she had done with her nieces and nephews. The baby gurgled and opened bright blue eyes. She waved a tiny fist in the air. _She won't have any memories of her mommy and daddy. Daddy on death row and Mommy in the nuthouse, maybe prison._ Ardelia looked up at Clarice.  
  
What're you naming her?  
Clarice sighed.   
  
I don't know yet. Hannibal and I have a terrible time with names. For Antonia, he wanted Mischa and I wanted Kimberly, I have no idea how we settled on that. John was my pick, Hannibal Jnr. just didn't sound right.  
Clarice suddenly looked shy.  
  
Awhile ago we were going through this again. I asked, if it was a girl... Ardelia. But, I think that might be a more suitable middle name.   
  
What about your mother?  
  
Louise Lecter?I don't think...  
  
_His_ mother?  
  
Nicoletta Lecter?   
  
Sounds mismatched.  
  
I take it Florence will be vetoed once again. Lecter had glided into the room to quietly for them to notice. Ardelia glanced at the windows again. Nearly dawn.  
  
You know I don't like it. Clarice smiled at him. He sat on the edge of the bed.   
  
Agent Mapp, if you would be so kind.  
Ardelia handed him the baby, who he held surprisingly gently. _It should not be his child. But hey girl, it is. Clarice is - is happy. When, really think, was the last time she was really happy? _  
The last time Ardelia could remember Clarice being happy was the first time she'd met her. Only Clarice's head showed over the boxes she'd brought into the tiny dorm room. But she was laughing and sparkling with joy of being excepted into the great big honorable F-B-I. Ardelia knew her father was a sheriff and was killed when Clarice was little, so being a fed was big deal to her. Mapp liked her immediatley, and she saw the unhappiness later on. At graduation, the Jame Gumb fiasco put a damper on Clarice. Everything went downhill. The rescue bought her more enemies than friends. All the good ol' boys were plenty mad that she just stumbled on to Gumb's address and saved the day. A few tried to get the board to believe she'd known all along. The papers loved her, and that just made it worse.  
  
But here she was, smiling at the father of her _children_, sitting up in bed, now asking what she thought a good name would be.   
  
What about your sister? Becky, so Rebecca?  
  
Clarice smiled again. I like it.  
  
Lecter cleared is throat. A, Clarice, we should leave it open to consideration...  
  
Hannibal, when you have a seven pound human larvae claw its way out of your abdomen over the course of thirteen hours, twice before totaling ninety-three hours, you will have unquestioned control of its name.  
  
Lecter leaned over and kissed her forehead. That's my girl. he said quietly.  
  
He turned, the newly decided Rebecca still in his arms. Now about Agent Mapp. What can we do with you? You know our faces, and our children's, where we live. What can we do with someone like that?  
  
Clarice looked at Ardelia sorrowfully. You know my happiness, Antonia, John, Rebecca, and where I- we - plan to raise them. To give them childhoods unlike ours. Please Ardelia, I don't want to kill you, but there is no debate about hurting my children. Ardelia, it's your call.  
  
The words burned in the air over them to Mapp. Scenes ran through her head. Clarice's eyes when she cried. John crying for his mother. John's scattered toys. Antonia holding her brother. Lecter holding Rebecca. Lecter holding a knife.   
  
And through all this, she found an unnatural calm, not unlike the one the former Starling felt the night she ran away to here, and there the decision had been clear cut for her.  
  
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I absolutley refuse to post the ending until I hear lots of critism! *smirks evilly* 


	5. So this is how it all ends...

chapterfive

_Mapp left the compound quietly, and drove to the next town over. She picked up the phone to tell the FBI where Lecter and Clarice were.   
We're sending the Leganes police, stay on the line.   
  
the voice said on the other end of the line. Later, she was there when Lecter and Clarice were arrested. Clarice was pale and drawn from exhaustion and stress. Her gray-blue eyes met Ardelia's. Clarice's mouth formed the word Why?', but she never voiced it aloud. Lecter looked so vehemently angry, back in a straight jacket and hockey mask. The Leganes police were trying to get him into a car with as little contact as possible.   
I held their child' Mapp thought. Antonia and John were already in a squad car. John was crying, tears running down his chubby face. Antonia wasn't even trying to calm him, she was fixated on her mother (in handcuffs) and her father . Baby Rebecca was in the arns of an officer trying to calm the wailing child. Ardelia took her. She rocked the baby, who stopped crying. She walked into the house. The beautiful mansion was now impersonal and littlered with boot prints and evidence pointers.   
She isn't in her right mind , Ardelia. Agent Starling would have wanted to be safe. Karen stood behind her. Ardelia had never seen her so quiet.   
You got here fast, Karen-   
Why's Mother in handcuffs? Why is my Father in that jacket? Ardelia turned to see Antonia.   
Antonia, you shouldn't be in here. Go back to the car.   
Why are they, Mapp? She was your best friend, you know they wouldn't have hurt you, and Starling wouldn't let Lecter hurt their children. No homicides fitting Lecter's MO since they ran off. Section Chief Jack Crawford said calmly.   
Ardelia startled and nearly screamed.   
Crawford ,you're dead!   
I was never happy Ardelia, you just thought I was... Starling, exactly how she looked fifteen years ago , without the gunpowder mark.   
Suddenly she was standing in the lab where Jame Gumb was autopsied.   
Krendler , also fifteen years younger, standing there. Clarice hadn't been at the autopsy, and Mapp had first learned what a pain in the ass Krendler was.   
So Starling blasted him? I guess he's her type. Lecter was advancing behind him, and slit his throat . Mapp wanted to scream, but her jaw wouldn't open.   
What do you think now, Agent Mapp?   
His smile dripped blood , and when she looked down , it was her body laying on a lovely carpet. Mapp looked up and saw Clarice, her smile dripping blood.   
What now, Ardelia? Ardelia? ARDELIA!  
  
_Mapp's head snapped up. Karen was leaning over her, looking concerned.  
Is everything alright? A flight attendant asked. Ardelia sat up from her twisted position in the airplane seat. She blinked in the bright light of the coach cabin.   
Um, yeah. Just having a little trouble sleeping.   
The flight attendant nodded and went on.   
Nightmares, huh Dea? Karen asked sympathetically.  
Ardelia nodded and yawned .   
I'm gonna hit the bathroom before we land. Karen said and walked off.  
Ardelia put her head in her hands for a moment to calm herself. The she reached under the seat for her purse and took out a picture. It was newly taken, but already had the look of something well worn and loved. In it are a two adults. A tall, regal man has his arm around a woman's shoulder. His face is obscured by shadows, giving him an air of mystery. The woman's hat hides her eyes bu not her smile. In her arms is a yellow bundle, a tiny fist in the air. A serious young girl stands in front of them, her hands behind her back. Her gaze makes you feel like she knows everything about you, even from a picture. But she is smiling faintly, for she holds her little brother's hands aloft so he can can stand for the picture. He is tousle-haired and grinning brightly. A lovely little family.   
  
Mapp smiles to herself. _Hell, maybe I'll let Karen set me up when we get back. Never know when you're gonna meet old friends. I want something lovely of my own soon.  
_Still smiling, she turns the photograph over. Written in a somehow familiar but more delicate script, four words seem to glow on the paper.  
You Know My Happiness_  
_


End file.
